


Edge of the Sword

by diaphanous87



Series: D'arshan Tia: Eorzea and Beyond [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Developing Friendships, Gen, Language, M/M, Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), No beta we die like mne, Onward to Garuda, Other, Road Trips, a bit of a rough start, assumptions are made about each other, aw shit here we go, we're off to get an airship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:08:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22560772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diaphanous87/pseuds/diaphanous87
Summary: Sequel to Stranded in a Strange WorldAlone save for a teenaged elezen know-it-all and a Garlean defector/engineer with memory problems, D'arshan Tia has a difficult path ahead. The aftermath of the Waking Sands massacre had given way to uncertainty except for two things: a burning need for vengeance and the goal of taking back Minfilia and the others stolen by an imperial she-devil in white armor.But first he had a goddess of the winds to kill and that means finding a very specific airship, The Enterprise.
Relationships: Cid nan Garlond & Alphinaud Leveilleur & Warrior of Light
Series: D'arshan Tia: Eorzea and Beyond [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1477532
Comments: 18
Kudos: 19





	1. Prologue: First Steps

**Author's Note:**

> Of course right on the heels of finishing Stranded, we now have the prologue to its sequel! Welcome!

* * *

Alphinaud Leveilleur, Scion of the Seventh Dawn and grandson of Louisoix Leveilleur, wasn’t quite sure what to make of the miqo’te man walking in front of him.

A vicious tempered brute. A kind and caring friend. Which was he, this D’arshan Tia? He who had personally saw to the funerals of the fallen. He who had borne their bones to their final resting places. He who could have crushed his skull with a flex of his hands. He whose rage was nearly all encompassing, fangs bared in a flash of deadly white. The younger man had assumed he had been nothing more than another adventurer out for glory and gold. Just another sellsword granted a power that he should have never gotten. Alphinaud stared at that broad back draped in black and deep purple. The mobile ears belonging to the other flicked back in his direction but their owner never even turned his head. The elezen frowned at the conundrum presented before him.

D’arshan was a man who both aided the downtrodden and slew gods, sometimes all in the same day. And now they were off to find a way to get him to a third false deity in need of killing. Alphinaud sighed. Very well, this savage blade, this man blessed with the Echo, Alphinaud would wield him for the good of the realm.

For Eorzea.

* * *

The little shit was staring awfully hard at D’arshan. He could feel that calculating gaze like the tip of a dagger at the small of his back. Seeing how he could use him, no doubt. D’arshan could almost applaud the cold-bloodedness if it wasn’t aimed at him. Instead he ignored it. He’ll cross that bridge when it comes.

The journey into the South Shroud had been quiet so far as D’arshan led the way through Root Slake to Camp Tranquil. The protesting noises from the little mage of their trio were also ignored. He was the one who had decided to journey by foot instead of chocobo, after all. And Cid, being a Garlean, was unable to use Aetherytes. Not that anyone but D’arshan was attuned to the pair in the South Shroud anyway.

“AH!” Alphinaud cried out, his foot stuck deep in the swampy mud. “A little help here!”

“I’ve got him,” Cid called from the tail end of their little procession. D’arshan turned and watched as the engineer attempted to pull the youngest out. “Or not… shite.” Now he was stuck.

“I’m sinking!” the elezen wailed, clutching at Cid.

“Didn’t I tell you not to step there?” D’arshan asked in exasperation. He bounded over several other deep spots that he had purposely walked around in the hopes that they would follow his lead. Right, a terrible assumption to make that there was any common adventurer’s sense between the two following him. “The swamp has hidden sink holes! I distinctly remembering saying that!” He kept grumbling as he summoned a length of rope from his armiger. “Stop struggling! You’ll sink deeper! I’ll be right there.” He circled the rope around the sturdy thick trunk of a tree. His hands quickly made a timber knot.

“D’arshan!”

“I said I’ll be right there! Calm down!” the miqo’te shouted. The other end of the rope in hand, he turned around to see the small elezen now shoulders deep while Cid was chest deep. Panic was clear in their expressions. Alphinaud was still trying to wriggle even. “For fuck’s sake…” This journey really was off to a great start.

* * *

The arrival at Camp Tranquil was certainly… memorable. D’arshan trudged up the rope and plank ramps. A Twin Adder corporal giggled at the sight as he passed by. The miqo’te had an exhausted, mud covered Alphinaud slung over one shoulder whilst he was dragging an equally exhausted and muddy Cid behind him by the back of his shirt. D’arshan only had mud up to his knees and on his hands. And where he was carting the elezen was getting more mud transferred onto his shoulder.

“D’arshan, is that you?”

“Ah, asshole egg guy. Hey, what’s up?”

Captain Landenel, arm now healed, laughed. “You look to be in good health for a dead man,” the elezen said. “Rumors swirling around, you know. Though it looks like you’ve got your muddy hands full. Did they take a dip in the swamp?”

“Something like that,” D’arshan drawled. He jostled the elezen on his shoulder when he made to protest. “They haven’t gotten the sense that the gods gave a dodo but we’re fine anyway.”

“Oi….” Cid grumbled.

“Ha! Well, you’re welcome here, friend! We’ve got a rinsing station our patrols use when they’re too muddy.” Landenel waved at him to follow. “I’m still impressed when you refused to…” He kept chattering to a stoic D’arshan. A couple of Wood Wailers snickered before their captain’s second commanded them to clean up the trail of mud and muck that Cid was leaving behind from where he was being dragged along. The laughter stopped after that.

The sputtering from Alphinaud when he was sprayed in the face with clean water made D’arshan smile a little, eyes crinkling at the outer corners in amusement.

* * *

One rented chocobo ride later to Buscarron’s and Alphinaud collapsed to the ground in relief. His long silver hair was still drying in its braid. And his clothes were damp and a bit chilly. He hung limply in the air for a brief moment as D’arshan lifted him up by the back of his tunic. Gently set on his feet, the elezen teenager staggered before being steadied by Cid. “Let’s… never do that again,” he wheezed.

“Next time, when I say avoid this spot in particular, avoid it. And mud is a fact of life as an adventurer,” D’arshan lectured. “Get used to it.” With a swish of his long tail, he turned to enter the tavern with its attached inn. “Let’s go and get a room, lads. We’ll keep going at sunrise.”

“Sunrise?!” Alphinaud whined. But once again he was ignored. He harrumphed, crossing his arms. Cid patted him on the head as he walked past him into the tavern. “Wait for me!” The elezen hurried after the two in a flustered panic. He would not be left behind!

* * *

**End Prologue**

**TBC**


	2. Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which D'arshan, Alphinaud, and Cid begin their journey out the North Shroud and into the cold of Coerthas. 
> 
> They don't get very far though...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY! AFTER 3000 YEARS! BEHOLD! AN UPDATE!!!!
> 
> Seriously, it's been a struggle but once I got the little bit I had on my phone into a Word Doc last night, my D'arshan brain turned on again. Huzzah! And it's off again. Boo.
> 
> Unbeta'd, as per usual. Enjoy~!

* * *

**Part One: Cold **

* * *

The nightmares were mixing now. Fire, blood, and falling stone filled his dreams. The Bowl of Embers featured prominently. The remembered scent of brimstone and charred meat stung his nose. But now Titan loomed with Ifrit in the blaze of aetheric flames. All around on the ground were the scattered bodies of the Scions, dead.

Battered and bleeding, D’arshan stood alone. Ringing echoed in his ears. One was limp and torn, sluggishly bleeding. At his feet was Minfilia, broken and curled around Tataru. A few fulms away was Thancred atop Y’shtola in a failed attempt to shield her. Stretched out across from one another was Papalymo and Yda, his now limp, tiny hand reaching for his partner. Both slain in that position without mercy. Behind D’arshan was Urianger and a pair of young elezens curled up next to other another. Alphinaud and Alisaie? D’arshan couldn’t remember for some reason...

Titan laughed, like grinding gravel and booming. The primal’s massive stone fists rose up. Ifrit roared, fire blazing brighter. It leapt into the air. Godly fists and gleaming claws descended upon D’arshan.

He screamed.

* * *

Waking in a cold sweat, D’arshan’s eyes shot open. For a long moment he stared up toward the ceiling in the gloom. His hearing cleared and the soft sounds of snoring and breathing surrounding him filtered in. Alphinaud snuffled and rolled over. His pointed nose poked against D’arshan’s bicep. The teen clung to him. On the other side of the miqo’te, Cid snorted, slumbering on. The massive bed they had to share in the inn room was warm. The other large bed had a group of four sisters, all deep asleep. Their soft breathing was barely audible but clearly there.

D’arshan hated not having a private room but the inn at Fallgourd was small and the rooms shared by strangers and friends alike. Adventurer groups tended to stick together. And he supposed his little trio was considered as such. Still, they were mostly strangers. And yet, D’arshan needed to cling to something. His body still thought it could feel the heat of Ifrit’s fire and the crushing power of Titan’s blows. He rolled over and threw an arm over Alphinaud. He buried his face in the teen’s white hair and struggled to keep himself in the here and now with the lingering echo of his nightmare rattling around in his head.

Alphinaud startled awake when he felt shaking. But he kept silent and still as tears soaked into his hair. He steeled his heart for he knew the miqo’te would never accept any sympathy from him in the light of day. Instead he pretended to sleep on and clung to the other’s shirt. Cid just snored.

* * *

At breakfast, Alphinaud poked at his porridge. He peeked under his lashes at D’arshan whose frown was incredibly fierce for a man who was staring at his eggs on top of his own porridge. Mayhap the eggs offended him. They were a bit rubbery... But Alphinaud did not speak. He still felt tired and half-awake despite drifting back to sleep after the miqo’te had accidently woke him. He also felt a bit chilled. The elezen prayed to the gods that he was not taking ill so soon into their search for the Enterprise.

“You need a coat,” D’arshan said suddenly. Cid paused, his spoon in his mouth. He made an inquiring noise. “And a coat for you too, Cid. And new clothes for you, kid.” Poking at his untouched food, D’arshan sighed. “Coerthas is brutally cold and you’ve got weird holes in your leggings.”

“Weird holes..! I beg your pardon?” Alphinaud sputtered, face blushing a little.

“You’ll freeze. I’ve been in Coerthas recently. The Calamity, from what I hear, caused the cold to take over the whole region. Verdant fields are now nothing but ice.” D’arshan leaned forward to catch the his gaze. “You will die dressed as you are without even a coat. I’ve lost enough Scions, I’ll not lose you too. Is that clear?”

Oh. “Crystal clear,” the elezen muttered, the tops of his long ears flushed a pale pink. He shoved an uncouth spoonful of porridge into his mouth.

“And don’t worry about money, I’ve got the gil.” The only Echo bearer waved away Cid’s concerned expression. “I’ve been saving what I’ve earned except for the occasional weapon and gear repair. It’s fine.”

“I’ll pay you back... somehow,” Cid said, a stubborn set to his mouth.

“You can pay me back by not dying from the cold,” D’arshan replied with a tone as dry as the desert. He sniffed and began to eat his now cold breakfast. The texture was off but he wasn’t picky by any means. “The clothier opens anon. We’ll go there first. And maybe some boots and gloves.”

At least he didn’t talk with his mouth full of food, much to Alphinaud’s relief. So he wasn’t a complete savage. Just a bossy one. The elezen sipped his honeyed milk, watching as D’arshan and Cid bantered back and forth about clothing choices and fancy holes on shirt sleeves being ill-advised along with high-heeled boots in sand for some reason. It was amusing to listen to and he wondered. Was this what it was like to travel with friends? Not that he and D’arshan were friends but this was companionable.

“Alphinaud! Please tell D’arshan that goggles can be an excellent fashion choice as well as practical!” Cid slapped his hand on the table, breaking the youngest of their group from his musings.

“Pft, please! As if! They’re practical but ugly!”

“Take that back!”

Alphinaud chuckled at the harmless argument taking place. He was sorry when the humble meal ended. He let himself be dragged to the clothier with only a little bit of pouting. But there was a curious warmth in his chest as D’arshan fussed over him. He marveled at how strong hands gently draped a cloak over his shoulders and steady pale eyes looked over Alphinaud before a different cloak was put on him only to be summarily rejected as well.

Cid was trying on coats lined with fur, clearly more trusted in picking out his clothing.

Alphinaud stared up at D’arshan as he haggled for a dark blue woolen cloak with squirrel fur lining. Sturdy boots with tread was shoved into his hands along with fleecy leggings (no fashionable thigh holes) were piled on top of the boots as well as a thick woolen tunic in a woad blue with a turtleneck. Head spinning, Alphinaud found himself ushered into a fitting room with a weaver who adjusted the clothing seemingly without effort. In another moment, he stumbled out of the fitting room in his new clothes. Awed at the speed of the work, the elezen brushed a hand down the front his new soft tunic.

“There you are,” D’arshan said, smirking. He held up some light armor. “Come here, kid.” Tying on the light cuirass around his younger companion, he adjusted the half breast plate and the two part back plate. “This is mage appropriate armor, light with ease of movement.” He tapped a finger on the cover of the arcanist book at Alphinaud’s hip. “Trust me, cloth and leather doesn’t always cut it for being so squishy.”

“I am not squishy!” Alphinaud protested. He wriggled his shoulders as D’arshan attached a pair of thin metal pauldrons. He puffed out his cheeks in offense at the doubtful look shot his way. “I’m not!”

“Sure, kid. Gloves.” The miqo’te shoved a pair of leather gloves into his hands. He grinned. “And bracers.” D’arshan nodded in satisfaction after he swirled the cloak around and over Alphinaud’s shoulders. The front was fastened together at his throat with a pair of silver Gridanian knotwork clasps. “There, now you look like someone who is actually competent.”

“YOU—“

“How you doing, Cid?” D’arshan called out, turning his back to a fuming Alphinaud. A wicked smirk curled his lips at the angry muttering he heard from the teen. “Hey, nice coat, buddy!”

Cid, amused at the sibling like shenanigans happening before him, smiled. “Thank you. And I feel much warmer now.” Fallgourd was chillier than the rest of the Shroud thanks to being so close to the drastically changed climes of Coerthas.

“You got your knives at your hip underneath it?”

“Aye, I’m well prepared.”

“Hm, good. Hopefully that’ll be a last resort for you since I’ll be there to handle most of the fighting. The wildlife isn’t the only thing we’ll have to contend with in Coerthas.” D’arshan picked Alphinaud up by the shoulders away from the counter. “I said I’m paying, kid. Cool it.”

“But with the Leveilleur name...!”

“Nope! We pay out of pocket for this, alright. No tabs means no traces.” D’arshan nodded at the clothier’s proprietor who nodded back. The elezen quietly tallied the cost and took the money handed to him.

“What about you?” Cid asked, eyeing the miqo’te.

“I got winter clothes after last time I was up there so I wouldn’t nearly freeze to death again. You two wait outside and I’ll change here.” D’arshan laughed as the two trudged out of the clothier’s. The proprietor gestured for him to use the fitting room. It took no time at all for him to change into what he had worn last time he was in Coerthas. But he bought two scarves before forgetting for his companions. “Thanks, my friend.”

“Stay safe, Arshan. And I never saw you.” The elezen turned away pointedly as D’arshan slunk out of the store. He sighed but went back to his counter, signaling to his sister the weaver to never speak of the transaction that had taken place. She nodded and mimed buttoning her lips. The siblings owed the miqo’te much for their lives from moons ago when he had saved them from Ixali. The least they could do was keep quiet of his passing through Fallgourd.

* * *

A sudden gust of freezing wind smacked into Alphinaud’s face. He squawked as stinging snow blew into his eyes. He flailed for a bit and crashed into D’arshan. The miqo’te tutted, wrapping the scarf he had bought for him around his neck and pulled up over his mouth and nose. He brushed away the little bits of ice forming on the younger’s eyelashes. “Th-thank you,” Alphinaud said in a muffled voice behind his new scarf. “You... you weren’t j-j-japing about the cold!”

“I told you,” D’arshan replied, pulling the elezen’s hood over his head to cover his hair and cold flushed ears. “There we go, kid.” Bemused at the feel of spindly arms wrapping around him under his cloak, the miqo’te let him cling onto him. He rested a gloved hand on his back against the split double plate under the fur lined cloak. His pale eyes squinted as he stared at the darkening horizon. “Storm’s coming and we haven’t even made it to the Observatorium. Cid! Hey, Cid!” He waved his other hand at the Garlean ex-pat trailing behind him. “Cid, we’ve got to shelter down! We won’t beat the storm!” he shouted as Cid jogged up to him. D’arshan pointed at the rapidly approaching snow and thunder. The wind picked up again.

“Thal’s balls!” Cid yelped behind his scarf. “But where?!”

“Small set of caves just a bit down that way. We’ll make it there but not to the Isghardians’ Observatorium!”

“Alright! Lead the way!”

“Aye!” D’arshan scooped up Alphinaud who couldn’t muster the energy to protest. Even his warm new clothes were barely enough to keep out the dropping temperatures. “Come on, I’ll get a fire going once we get there.” He and Cid hurried down the barely visible road before veering off to the small cave system he had mentioned. Turning a corner, they were finally sheltered from the winds. The miqo’te handed the trembling teen to Cid. He was going to have to put some fat on that kid. Too skinny by half. “I’ve got wood in my armiger, one moment.” Biting back his instinctual fear, D’arshan lit the arranged wood within the circle of stone he had hurriedly set up. Yanking a couple of blankets from his armiger as well, he set one down by the fire.

Cid set Alphinaud down and helped him out of his wet cloak and wrapped into a dry blanket. Thankfully his knee high boots had kept his feet and leggings mostly dry. The Garlean then shed his coat to let it dry on a rock. He pressed up against Alphinaud to share his warmth through his own heavy woolen tunic. He watched as D’arshan put more wood on the fire before removing his own cloak. The miqo’te sat on the other side of Alphinaud. D’arshan flung a third, larger blanket around the three of them. He wrapped an arm around the younger, pressing against him like Cid.

Sandwiched between the two who were throwing off heat like they were his own personal hearths and with a fire before him, Alphinaud relaxed as warmth flooded slowly back into his body. This certainly wasn’t going to plan but he was glad for D’arshan’s practicality and Cid’s companionship. He dreaded the thought of how he would have fared if the miqo’te hadn’t been so insistent on getting him new, warmer clothes. The storm now raging beyond the cave might have been the death of him. And where would Eorzea be after losing yet another Scion? And his sister... Alphinaud squeaked when D’arshan pinched his cheek.

“You’re thinking too loudly,” D’arshan said. “Stop worrying. We’re here and we’re alive. And hopefully by morning, that shit will clear and we can get to the Observatorium.”

“And then we can find the Enterprise,” Cid piped up. “She’ll probably need repairs but we’ll get her.”

“Aye, and then Garuda is toast.” D’arshan smiled viciously. He certainly had some pent up aggression to use. “Sleep, kid. The dawn will come soon enough.”

“The dawn will come, aye,” Alphinaud murmured, eyes drooping. He scooted closer to D’arshan. He dropped off into sleep.

“You’re warming up to him,” Cid whispered over the softly snoring elezen between them. The hike up to the highlands had really worn the boy down.

“Shut up, I am not.” D’arshan may have been speaking denials but his chin was propped on top of the other’s head, tail curled around him. Alphinaud’s forehead was pressed against his throat. He flicked his feline ears. “He’s just so little.”

“Hm.”

“He seems bigger and more annoying awake.”

“So you say.”

“I’ll kill you.”

“You’re a bloody liar, D’arshan.” Cid snorted a laugh when the miqo’te flashed his short fangs at him. And he thought to himself, ‘You’re so fucking attached already, gods have mercy on the poor soul who dares to look at our young friend the wrong way...’

Around the corner and beyond the mouth of the small cave, the evening storm howled on.

* * *

** TBC **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience! (For those of you who have stuck by this series, I love you.) 
> 
> Tap that kudos button and/or leave a comment if you like! Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for making it here! If you have no idea what this was about, may I suggest reading Stranded in a Strange World first? 
> 
> Tap that kudos button and/or leave a comment if you like! We're gearing up for the next roller coaster ride that is the latter half of A Realm Reborn.


End file.
